


Tonight, we are young

by Mana_Sputachu



Category: Tekken (Video Games)
Genre: Also veeery subtle Xiaojin, Comedy, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Just them being dorks i guess, introspective, it's one of my stories so of course there's Xiaojin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:02:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29406657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mana_Sputachu/pseuds/Mana_Sputachu
Summary: Who would have thought that Jin Kazama was a nerd? I certainly didn't.Neither did Hwoarang, judging by the reaction he got when I told him about it.[Xiaoyu, Jin and Hwoarang being human disasters]
Relationships: Jin Kazama&Hwoarang, Kazama Jin & Ling Xiaoyu, Kazama Jin/Ling Xiaoyu
Kudos: 3





	Tonight, we are young

**Author's Note:**

> In the hope of fill up this account, I’ve decided to translate some of my old stories, and the fact that I was redoing its fanart (because I HAD to show Jin in his slippers~) made me think of starting with this one. :D  
> I’m usually very critic of my works, both fanart and fanfics, but there are a few that I still quite like, and this is one of them: in retrospect I would probably add less headcanons and make them a bit less cheesy (Jin would still keep some of my tastes in music tho :p), but overall I think it’s still enjoyable, and I hope you’ll enjoy it too, if you’ll read it!  
> The headcanons about Xiao’s family are my own (and through the years I noticed a lot of people share this idea too) since Namco and Harada especially aren’t capable of keeping the canon… well, canon. So after more than 17 years in this fandom, it’s f r e e r e a l e s t a t e~  
> Also, Xiaojin hints because I wrote this, so you should expect Xiaojin even when there’s not lol. And yes, Xiao is 16 here and got some beer.  
> Anyway, I hope you’ll enjoy it!

_... so let's set the world on fire _

_ We can burn brighter than the sun. _

  
  


In everyone's eyes, Jin Kazama is the perfect student.

Serious, quiet, smart and good in all subjects, with a thing for mechanical engineering; also well versed in sports and artistic subjects, he speaks fluent languages  (he  still speaks in some kind of _ engrish  _ tho, but he's Japanese, it's not even his fault). He is definitely not suited for home economics, but it doesn't seem to upset him: "I can always live on instant ramen" is his laconic answer every time the topic comes up, and it is perhaps the only flaw to the idea of the “boyfriend material” that almost all the Mishima Polytechnic has of him.

Let's add that he's cute. 

Really cute.

Really,  _ really _ cute.

Tall, muscular, dark eyes, hair combed using a firecracker  — not that girls dwell on that detail. When he wears his eyeglasses a chorus of sighs rises in the classroom.

There’s a rumor among the girls at school that he sleeps naked, or at least with very few clothes on: the swimming lessons and the swimsuit that leaves little to nothing to the imagination have certainly contributed to fuel the legend.

So, according to 90% of the school, Jin Kazama is the dream guy, the "beautiful and damned" who destroys hearts and doesn't even notice it.

...Yes sure.

Oh, come on!

Whenever I hear my classmates talking about Jin I would love to smack their heads in the vain hope of making them come to their senses. I don't even try to explain to them that no, reality is a bit different from how they imagine it: the last time they attacked me with questions like “What is it like at home?”, “Have you ever seen him naked?", "Is he well endowed?", "But have you really never done  _ anything _ with him?!" I nearly ended up going to the principal for a fight. And Ling Xiaoyu doesn't want to end up going to see him, who will then notify my tutor Heihachi Mishima. Then yes, things would get really ugly for me.

I stretch my back, letting my gaze wander around and, as if I had summoned him, from the window overlooking the corridor I see Jin pass by with other boys; he notices me and sticks his tongue. I reciprocate. That's how we usually say hi to each other.

“Xiao! Kazama greeted you! "   
For heaven's sake, not again ...

"How cute!"

"That glorious butt, those pants don't really do him justice ..."   
"He doesn't wear glasses today, such a bummer..."

"Kami, can you hear yourself? Every time you see him one of your brain cells dies!" I burst out but my friends don't seem to listen to me. “You’re one to talk, you live with him! You're damn lucky!" is their obvious answer.

Lucky, right.

They  _ don't know _ .

They have no idea what it is like to live with Jin Kazama.

Perfect boy? 

If anything, he’s a Perfect Pain in the Ass, especially since he decided to become my private math teacher and nothing has worked to make him change his mind  —  but my grades have improved significantly, I’ll give him that.

Silk sheets and nothing else to sleep on?

Jin Kazama's idea of a bed is closer to a pile of blankets and duvets in which to roll up like a giant human spring roll and snuggle into a fetal position. And snoring due to a slight sinus problem. 

Ah yes, his hypochondria. I could write a medical thesis on it.

In addition to sinusitis, Jin Kazama suffers from seasonal allergies. To _ what, _ exactly, is unknown, but what is certain is that when the first flowers bloom he starts his personal Greek tragedy: "I can’t breathe!", "My nose is leaking like a faucet!", "Xiao will you bring me antihistamines?", "I AM DYING!" are some of his recurring phrases, screamed from the sofa in a dramatic tone as if he has a shinigami perched on his shoulder ready to take him to the afterlife. Meanwhile I’m left to wonder what I have done wrong in life.

It is true that he doesn't like to go around with too much clothes on when he is at home, especially during training, and I have never complained about that. But it is also true that his pajamas do not even remotely resemble the  _ Adamic costume _ which the female half of the school fantasizes on: on the contrary, it is precisely at that point that his philosophy on dressing - "The less clothes I wear the better" - goes to hell. Jin Kazama’s sleep outfit includes: sweatsuit-like pants with an incredibly tacky flame drawn on one of the legs (identical to those he uses for training, I suspect he has purchased those in stock.), a Cure t-shirt (one of his favorite groups, because he’s obsessed with Western music), glasses, unkempt hair, and slippers. Plush slippers.

_ Pffffft- _

Jin Kazama uses plush slippers! When I found out, I laughed in his face (which he didn't like, but that's okay).

And speaking of Western music, here's another thing I never expected from him: Jin loves to sing. Usually he would just hum softly, thinking of not being heard by anyone, but when the house is empty, when Heihachi is away on business and even the servants aren’t there, Jin Kazama lets himself go in the shower to very dramatic interpretations of his favorite songs, from The Cure to Queen and other Western bands he loves so much; every now and then he also sings something from his own country, especially anime theme songs.

Yes,  _ anime _ , another chapter apart.

The first time I saw him watching one on TV I thought he was zapping  —  but no! Jin Kazama loves anime and manga, his room is  _ full  _ of comics (but also books, ever: he’s a nerd and he always will be), even some Westerners comics. "Every now and then the old shithead takes me around the world with him for work... and once, while in America, I discovered these'' he explained to me, waving one of his  _ comics _ ; I tried to read them and tried very hard to like them, but I just can not find charm in  _ x men _ ,  _ spider men  _ and  _ bat men _ . Never a normal one.

Who would have thought that Jin Kazama was a nerd? I certainly didn't.

Neither did Hwoarang, judging by the reaction he got when I told him about it.

*

“You lie. You’re lying knowing you’re lying! "   
"Pinky promise."

Every now and then I spend time with Hwoarang. He and Jin hate each other, but he’s nice to me  —  although I’d gladly throw him under a car when he emphasizes me being  _ vertically challenged _ or my  _ not exactly ample _ bust. But aside from those moments he's not bad, and I also have a vague suspicion that he’s flirting with me.

"Sorry, if I can't see it I don't believe it" he replies, inhaling a puff of smoke from his cigarette; I managed to teach him to exhale smoke away from me, just like a good puppy. I bite my very delicious looking  _ taiyaki _ and after having swallowed a bite I answer him: “Then come to our house one of these nights. Heihachi is traveling for work again, there are no servants either. "   
“All alone at home? Who knows how much fun you two must have under the sheets…” he teases, avoiding my kick while laughing.

"Idiot" I say, blushing. "However my invite is still valid: come and I will show you the real Jin Kazama, including his plush slippers."

Hwoarang smiles, a toothy grin: “Why do you really want to shame Kazama? I thought you were friends ”and underlines  _ friends _ , adding several air quotes with his fingers. I ignore the remark: “We are, in fact. It's just a funny thing... and then maybe this way he loosens up a bit, that sourpuss" I mutter," he’s convinced that no one should know what kind of person he really is, as if his life would depend on it! "   
"Always said he has a stick up his ass."   
I make a disgusted face at the horrible image, but I kinda agree: it doesn’t look like it but Jin is very self- conscious. And from what I've seen, the Japanese society, with its closed-mindedness, doesn't help.

But it's not sociology that I want to talk about.

I throw the paper that was wrapped around the taiyaki in a trash can and set off for home, not before turning to Hwoarang: "Come tomorrow night, and bring pizza and beers!"   
"Beer? I can bring you fruit juices at best! "   
I say goodbye to him with a middle finger.

He laughs.

That's how we usually say hi to each other.

*

"What is  _ he _ doing here?"

"Woah, this is definitely the house of a fucking rich man!"

Hwoarang wanders around the house, admiring the expensive and  _ gaudy  _ furnishings of the Mishima manor. "Your grandfather must have the biggest ego ever!" he comments, pointing at one of those hideous Heihachi Mishima's  _ golden half-busts  _ scattered around the house. Neither Jin nor I can really disagree.

"You didn't answer my question" he urges, looking at me through his glasses with a bleak stare. I promised Hwoa that he would see Jin Kazama in his natural habitat and that’s what happened; I suspect this is what’s irritating him the most, way more than the mere presence of Hwoarang.

"Come on, what harm can he do?" I whimper, showing off the most innocent of my looks. "Your grandfather will be away for a week, the servants only come in the morning... it was just to do something different!"

Jin snorts, but doesn't reply. Maybe, just maybe, he's not too bothered by the situation I put him in.

"So can he stay?" I ask.

"Girl, I'm not a stray!" Hwoarang retorts while juggling one of those horrid busts, and Jin just has to take the toy out of his hands: “Dude, that thing is disgusting but it's worth more than you and me together! Make sure you don't drop it on your foot! " 

Jin remains silent for a few moments, glaring at me and then at Hwoarang; in the end he gives in: "Oh, for Heaven’s sake, okay!"

"Hurray!"

"Well done Kazama, now we’re talking!" Hwoa smirks, patting him on the shoulder. "And honestly it would have been shitty of you to send me away since I brought dinner for an army!"   
"Did you get the beers?" I ask, and he places a fruit juice with a panda drawn on its package under my nose. I want to kill him.

"Whoa, sure you are touchy, hobbit girl!" he laughs, avoiding my fists. “There is enough beer for everyone, don't worry! But I won’t hold your head when you bend over the toilet!"   
"Oh please, I can handle alcohol better than Jin!"   
“Again with this story? Just because I got drunk  _ once?  _ " he intervenes, piqued.

“You said you saw seagulls. In the living room."   
"I had guzzled a bottle of sake by myself, it's a miracle I didn’t go into an ethylic coma."

“Ethylic coma for a single bottle? We have a princess here!" echoes Hwoarang with a look of fake disdain on his face. "By tonight I'll make you a real alcoholic, don't worry" he smiles slyly, and Jin rolls his eyes: "My wildest dream comes true."

Having said that, he turns and heads for the stairs. Hwoa and I exchange a weird look.

“Sorry Jin but… did you make Hwoarang stay here and then drop us both like idiots? Where are you going?"   
He turns and raises an eyebrow.

"In my room. I have a game paused "   
I keep staring at him, stunned, hoping he understands by himself.

He snorts. He must have understood.

"Bring the pizzas up to my room, let's have dinner there."

We don’t wait for another invite, therefore we quickly recover the food and follow him to his room.

“And what kind of game were you playing, Kazama? A… solitaire with your hand? " 

Hwoarang please avoid making conversation since you’re clearly not capable of doing it.

Jin has enough decency to not go along with it (but he’s embarrassed, he really is!) and just answers the question: “Actually, I was trying a game that came out very recently. I waited for its release for months and finally bought it! "

Jin's voice becomes slightly higher, revealing the supreme joy of having bought this mysterious game; Hwoarang turns to look at me with wide eyes: "...was it happiness I heard in his voice?" he whispers.   
"I told you," I laugh.   
"I don't want to burst your bubble, but I hear you" Jin intervenes, without even turning around, then stops in front of the door of his room: "Now, YOU BETTER not make a mess in my room" he says, and holds the door open to let us in.

"Oh. My. God."

Hwoarang's reaction is understandable because Jin's room perfectly reflects his personality: very clean and tidy to an extreme level, not even a forgotten sock lying around. Those too are sorted by color and type.

"Okay, now I have anxiety at the idea of just put the pizza boxes on your desk" is the comment Hwoarang makes while looking around.

"Give them to me before making a mess" Jin intervenes, taking the pizza boxes in his hand and placing them on a table near the TV. "Here, here it will be fine" he concludes, then sits down and quickly grabs the joypad; I peek at the TV to understand what kind of game it is, but Hwoarang once again distracts me.

“But these are manga! MANGA! And ... comics that I dunno what they are, but they’re MANY! "   
"Are you done getting excited or...?"   
"No Kazama, you don't understand" Hwoarang interrupts him gesturing with his hands "in my head you’re the kind of nerd with his nose perpetually on books and whose life revolves around studying and nothing else!"   
"... may I know, please, what am I doing in your head?"   
“Well you are… NORMAL! Almost."   
"No really, stop thinking about me, you’re creeping me out!"

“Come on Hwoa, pizza is getting cold! You will have more chances to be amazed, tonight, don’t worry” I comment before biting into a slice. I take a seat next to Jin with another slice for him, so he doesn’t forget to eat, and I look at the screen: “So, what's the game? The one you have been telling me about for weeks?"   
" _ Biohazard 3 _ " he comments in a hoarse whisper that I like, but that it also kinda upset me because he does it while talking about a video game. “You have to understand I've been waiting for this game for months now. The inheritance it carries is a heavy burden, but I am confident it will be good." **  
** He talks like some kind of possessed messiah but I will avoid pointing this out,  _ again _ .   
And I like to hear him talk about his hobbies, anyway, he stops being sulky and smiles and he's cute and-

“Oh, how cute, do you want to feed him while he plays? You’re really adorable lovebirds."

... Hwoarang, choke on your beer. Thank you.

That blush on Jin's cheeks, however, I will keep in mind.

"So, does the evening include pizza and shooting at zombie heads?" Hwoarang goes on, undeterred. "I like it, blood and guts always fit dinner."

"Glad you approve, since I don't plan to change my plans" Jin replies, grabbing his slice of pizza.

“Oh but you don't have to, I'm just here to observe you in your natural habitat! Do your good little critter things  —  hey, calm your tits, you’ll spill the beer! "

These two are a walking kindergarten.

"Calm down, Jin, leave him alone" I intervene "and remember that he bought us dinner ..." 

"What ?!"   
"Yes you did it" I turn to Hwoarang, glaring at him. Apparently it works.   
"Yeah okay, whatever" he mutters, uncorking a beer. After securing myself a glass of it, I turn back to my favorite nerd: "So, how's the game going?"   
“Raccoon City is totally overrun by zombies, the S.T.A.R.S no longer exists and Jill has to escape from here. There’s also that Brad Vickers wimp, I bet things will go bad for him"   
"Is he the one who left the squad in the mansion and ran away with the helicopter back in the first game?"   
"Exactly."   
"Then he deserves to die" I comment solemnly. Jin isn’t the only one who likes video games.

"Wait, stop, I'm confused, didn't Raccoon City blow up at the end of Biohazard 2?" Hwoarang intervenes, and this time Jin is amazed: "... you know Biohazard?"   
"You aren’t the only one that plays games, you special snowflake."   
Jin smiles, weirdly satisfied: “Well, then you’ll spare me from doing unnecessary explanations. And anyway yes, Raccoon City was razed in the previous game, but apparently Biohazard 3 is set one day before and one day after Biohazard 2."   
"...what?"   
"Nothing, don't overwork your lone brain cell," he snorts.

“Why don’t you resume the game then, so we all find out what it means?” I comment, “We’re not here to do our nails. Less words and more blood."

"The travel-size girl here is right, resume the game and let's see what you can do."

And Jin doesn't think twice.

The game proceeds (relatively) calmly: exploding zombies, Hwoarang shouting not so manly screams, Jin making fun of him, them arguing,  _ Jin _ shouting equally not so manly screams, wash, rinse, repeat. We manage to get to the police station and see the cool cutscene.

"See, I told you Brad would have ended badly!"   
"Not bad Xiao, not bad."   
"We should have made a bet."   
"Don't get so full of your-" 

A creepy squeak.

" _ STAAAAAARS _ ..."

Jin's eyes widen.

"...WHAT IS THAT THING."

On the screen there is a… thing. A huge thing dressed in black with tentacles coming from it, whose only line is "STAAAARS" repeated endlessly.

"Since when did the Tyrants spawn so early in the game?!" Jin comments, and I’m not sure if it amuses him or irritates him or both. 

Then two choices appear on the screen: "RUN" and "FIGHT".

"Choose Kazama, CHOOSE!"

"Shut up you animal, you’re making me anxious!"

"But it's getting closer!"   
"Cut it out!" Jin yells, and clicks RUN: our heroine escapes the tentacles and takes refuge in the police station. After a few knocks on the door the thing seems to leave her alone.

"...it’s gone?"   
"Without breaking down the door?"

Jin looks at us and tries to go back to the door. It slams violently.

"That’s a no."

We continue the adventure inside the police station, where Jin is moved as if he had returned to his own home after years ("Chris's desk!", "A shotgun! With no ammunition, obviously.", "WESKER I TRUSTED YOU! ”), meanwhile Hwoarang is more and more amused, and from time to time keeps thanking me for the invite. You’re welcome, dude, I knew you would have appreciated it.

“Okay, we're done,” Jin says, checking the map. "I want to see who sent the message on the radio and-" 

The sound of broken glass.

"..."   
"Jin, sooner or later you'll have to get out of here."   
"...must I?"

"Come on Kazama, be a man and move your ass!"

Jin inhales and goes down the ladder.

_ CRAAASH! _

“ _ STAAAAARS! _ "

" WHY IT KEEPS FOLLOWING ME? WHYYYY?! " 

"SHUT UP AND RUN KAZAMA!"   
"I'M RUNNING! I'M RUNNING! FUCK, JILL, MOVE! "

"DON’T STOP!"   
"I DIDN'T STOP, IT'S JILL WHO’S STUCK BETWEEN THE DESKS!"

"THE THING IS BEHIND YOU, HURRY UP!" I scream, now totally into the mood. Jin’s money was well spent, the tension IS REAL.

"Imdeadimdeadittookmefrombehindandithurtalot" is the mantra that Jin keeps repeating to himself until he is outside the police station.

"I'm ... I'm out..."   
"...and the thing didn't follow you."   
"...don't summon it."

It will be a long, long game.

  
*

"FUCK IT!"   
"Come on Jin, take a deep breath ..."   
"NO!"

I save the joypad from certain death, since Jin has thrown it away in a fit of rage, and I look back at him: “YOU” he growls, pointing the finger at Hwoarang, “you'll pay in pain. The re-match you wanted so badly will be nothing in comparison! "  
“Wow, you’re such a drama queen, Kazama! The world isn’t over! "  
"YOU’VE DELETED MY SAVEPOINT!" he screams, stomping his feet like a five-year-old. I won’t make any comment on his _calm_ _reaction_ to what was an honest mistake made by Hwoarang… okay, no, it wasn’t definitely an honest mistake. He took advantage of one of Jin’s trips to the bathroom to snag the joypad and, in his own words, "prove to Kazama that he ain’t the only one who can be a smart ass at video games!"

Let's put it this way, Jin has learned the hard way that he must never leave his PlayStation within Hwoarang's reach again, and that making two savepoints isn’t paranoia but precaution.

"Be a good kid now, take a deep breath and calm down" I say, massaging his shoulders in the vain attempt to make him relax. " It's just a video game."   
“Don't use that condescending tone to me” he mutters, but I ignore his remark: “You know it's true. Try to think it this way, you have lost only half an hour of play and in the next game you will do that part faster."   
The only answer I get is an annoyed grunt, which means that he knows I'm right but refuses to admit it openly in front of Hwoarang  —  who meanwhile is enjoying the show all spread on the table, holding a beer and giggling in a way that inspires violence. You don't really have any self-preservation instincts, do you?

"Listen, why don't we try another video game?" I suggest. “Maybe one you already know, so if other  _ accidents  _ happen” I glare at Hwoa, who sticks his tongue out to me “it won't be a real loss. What do you think? "

Jin looks at me in silence for a few seconds, then tries to incinerate Hwoarang with his eyes and finally nods. He crouches next to the TV again and begins to search among the CDs.

Sooner or later I will be paid for my services as an amateur kindergarten teacher, I hope.

*

_ Carry me home tonight, _

_ just carry me home tonight. _

  
  


In retrospect, I realize that letting Jin to choose games was a terrible idea.

If the  _ thing _ that was chasing Jill growling “ _ STARS! _ " in Biohazard 3 was not enough to fuel our anxiety, what came after awakened in us atavistic fears like that of the dark and monsters under the bed.

"Kazama wy the fuck did you made us play  _ Silent Hill _ ?!"   
"Why not? It's beautiful!"   
“Beautiful my ass! I will never set foot in a hospital again as long as I live! "   
"You’re such a drama queen ..." Jin chuckles, while Hwoarang stares at him with eyes so wide that I fear that they will roll out of his head. 

It's not that it's a bad game, mind you, but if all three of us have to go down to the kitchen just to get water because no one wants to be alone (and the endless corridors of this house suddenly seem creepy and dangerous) we should really ask ourselves some questions.

"Come on, are you really angry at me for this?"

"No, but now I will live in the hope that no dead cat will meow at me from inside my school locker!" I insist, and he seems to capitulate: "Okay, it's true, maybe it was  _ a little too  _ creepy" he snorts, "but if it hadn't been so it would have been a waste of money!"

“That wasn't the point but okay” I give up, as I try to think of happy things like puppies and panda cubs, wishing I wouldn't dream of ghost babies crying in a bathroom. After a few minutes of peaceful silence Hwoarang gets up, stretches and begins to look around: "Well well well, it was an interesting show" he grins, while his gaze rests on the shelves full of comics and books. Jin observes him suspiciously: "Glad I've entertained you" he replies, and then adds: "What are you planning to do...?"

"Nothing" the other smiles, "aside from studying your natural habitat  _ closely _ !"

Jin's gaze fires up, and I would like to drown into the ground: if there is one thing in the world that Jin hates, even more than Heihachi's existence, is when someone touches his things without permission. It bothers him to death. And if Hwoarang has one talent, it’s to be able to turn someone as peaceful as a Buddhist monk into a serial killer, when he wants: and  of course, two seconds later he’s swarming around Jin's room, regardless of the latter's hysterics, too busy touching his things, moving them, peeking and poking his nose where he shouldn’t; every time he takes one of his comics a part of Jin dies, judging by his face.   
"You should relax, Kazama, or you will give yourself an embolus."   
"I CAN'T RELAX IF SOMEONE TOUCHES MY STUFF" he growls in a high pitched tone that announces a mental breakdown at any moment, and one moment later he’s getting up and regaining possession of the book that Hwoarang is skimming through, dropping bookmarks, notes and who knows what else.   
"God, you really should learn to take life less seriously" he chuckles, "maybe get a shiatsu massage ... or some other kind of massage" he grins, and the blush on Jin's cheeks tells us that he has caught the double meaning.   
"'Fuck you" he mumbles, and Hwoa laughs with the look of his own stupidity painted on his face. When Jin will finally smack you with a chair don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.   
“Come on, you don't need to get so antsy! Here, I gently collected all the stuff that was between the pages of your book" he smiles and is about to return to Jin all his belongings when something seems to catch his attention: he’s looking at a particular piece of paper, then looks at Jin, then again the piece of paper.   
Jin snorts impatiently: "What now?" and Hwoarang gives him another look before replying: "It's an old medical prescription."

"And...?"   
“Your date of birth is interesting. We are the same age” he points out, and Jin raises an eyebrow; as I watch them in silence I feel my heartbeat grow faster, even if it makes no sense because it is something that does not concern me directly. But I know the answer to Hwoarang's unspoken question, and I fear a bit for Jin's reaction.

He doesn’t make a sound. He calmly takes the papers from Hwoarang’s hand, including the prescription, putting them back in their place among the pages of Stephen King’s  _ IT. _

“I skipped a year of school. When I started high school I was already sixteen."   
Hwoarang is clearly surprised by that unexpected reaction (different from the punches they usually communicate with) and glances at me begging for help, to which I don't know what to answer; but Jin keeps talking, without anyone forcing him to do it: he goes on because he  _ wants to _ .

“My mother died when I was fifteen. When I came to live here the shitty old man decided to send me to post-traumatic stress therapy, and after a few sessions my therapist said that I was unable to cope with school so soon after the accident. "   
“Kazama I'm sorry, I didn't-”   
“I've been in therapy for a year. I didn't leave the house except to go to the doctor, I was apathetic… much more than now” he smiles faintly, with a veil of sadness on his face. “At times I have tried to hurt myself. Like drinking a whole bottle of sake by myself” he looks away, referring to the joke Hwoarang and I made earlier in the evening about alcohol. It's hard not to feel disgusted: I had some suspicions about the reality behind that thing, but Jin never admitted anything. And he still goes on, never turning to look at us but forcing himself to rearrange his books (already sorted alphabetically). It almost seems like he's relieved to be able to let some steam off. As if he had been waiting for this moment for so many years.

“I vividly remember how my mother died… I remember the bloodstains in our yard, and that… that  _ thing _ that I still don't know what it was. Then it pushed me away and the blow to the head knocked me out. And when I woke up, a paramedic told me what had happened. It was the only moment I allowed myself to scream, even at the funeral I was completely stoic. "   
There’s not a crack in his voice, a shake, a hint of sadness: he talks mechanically and with detachment, as if it hadn't happened to him. Maybe he had to talk about it so much with his therapist that it became an habit. A horrible, macabre habit.   
"And now you know why I still attend school despite being the same age as you" he concludes, turning to Hwoarang, even hinting a half-smile, a bit shy and uncomfortable at the same time. But his face looks calmer, as if he had just taken a weight off his shoulders. In sadness, however, he manages to find some comfort.   
For a few minutes we remain silent, not knowing what to say: Jin has finished to (pretend to) arrange his books and is absent-mindedly looking at the shelf dedicated to comics; Hwoarang scratches his head, probably uncomfortable and unsure what to say or do; I just observe them both in silence and hope that something will happen to break this impasse.   
"My teacher died too, years ago."

In a weird turn of events, it’s Hwoarang who does it, showing us a piece of himself.

“They didn't even find his corpse… and the Seoul police didn't move a finger to find the culprit. He was just a Taekwondo teacher of a rundown dojo, who cared what happened to him? " he says, sitting back at the table, and his voice becomes more angry: "Well it mattered to ME, but who cares about the bastard that Master Baek picked up from the street, right?" 

Still silence. Finding the right words is hard even if you have experienced similar tragedies; with silence you can't go wrong.

"Even when my grandfather died no one did anything for him."

Shortly after, however, I find myself opening my mouth and adding a piece of my life to this strange puzzle made of secrets. “All I have left of him is the hat he always wore” I say, “the police brought it back to me saying they had found nothing else. A year earlier I had lost my family in a car accident, then him… and just a hat to remind me of him."

Hwoarang seems surprised by my words, maybe he didn't expect that the Chinese travel-size girl has always hidden something like this behind her smiles; Jin, on the other hand, doesn't speak, because he already knows this story.

After a few moments of silence I go on: “Heihachi Mishima was a friend of my grandfather. It was the only staple I had… in that moment I thought that getting on his yacht and knocking out his army to prove my worth as a fighter was a great idea. Maybe he'll adopt me, I thought. And here I am” I end my story with a shrug. Hwoarang looks concerned at me, then turns to Jin: "Did she really..." he asks, and the latter just nods. Hwoarang remains silent for a moment, then looks at us and smiles: "We’re seriously a nice trio of social misfits."

At first it’s a giggle. Then a laugh, a real one, which grows louder and infects everyone. I don't know who started it, I just know that we find ourselves bent over the table laughing  — mostly because of the joke, but also because... I don't know, maybe for exorcising the ugliness that life has forced upon us.

We keep laughing nonstop and, I admit it, it's good to see Jin laugh like that.

*

When I wake up, it takes me a while to realize I'm not in my room. Just a quick glance at the shelves sorted by type is enough to guess _whose_ room it is and remember yesterday evening: I smile thinking back to the stupid squabbles, video games and that moment of confidence that resulted in a liberating laugh. It was nice. I don't know if it will happen again, I doubt the planets will line up again to allow those two to stay in the same room without killing each other, but a girl can always dream, can't she?

A soft snore coming from the armchair tells me that Jin has been a gentleman and has given me his bed: I get up and sneak up to him while he tries to find a comfortable position to sleep.

Remind me to thank you when you wake up.

Hwoarang, on the other hand, seems to have vanished into thin air… until a loud, tractor-like snoring guides me to the bathroom, offering me the embarrassing show of Hwoarang sprawled in the bathtub.

Only you could have fallen asleep in there, honestly.

I take advantage of the absence of the servants and go down to the kitchen to prepare me some breakfast. While I rummage for bread and something to spread on it, I keep thinking about last night and how much I would like other moments like this. I'm sure Jin and Hwoarang could get along, if only...

"KAZAMA ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY ?!"

"IT'S NOT ME WHO SLEPT IN THE BATHTUB!"

"AIN’T A GOOD REASON TO WAKE ME UP WITH COLD WATER!"

"FORGIVE ME, NEXT TIME I WILL MAKE SURE TO GET IT HOT AND BOIL YOU!"

... if only they wanted to.

Obviously.

But nothing stops me from keep hoping, right?

And so I just bite into my slice of bread, basking in their animal-like screams (which come loud and clear from the first floor) and the amount of creative insults they’re dedicating to each other.

That's how they usually say hi to each other.

  
  


_ So if by the time the bar closes _

_ And you feel like falling down _

_ I'll carry you home tonight. _

**We are young - Fun feat. Jeanelle Monàe**

  


**Author's Note:**

> *IT has been published in Japan in 1994 into 4 volumes.
> 
> If you’ve come this far, thank you! I hope you enjoyed the read!


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